


I believe you.

by cyanidecity



Series: letters from captivity [2]
Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: Character Development, F/F, Flashbacks, Fluff, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:46:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24259114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyanidecity/pseuds/cyanidecity
Summary: After Anacostia brings Raelle into her interrogation room, Scylla is left reeling. She questions what drove her to become who she is and how meeting Raelle has changed her sense of self. There are two main flashbacks - one of her family's life, and one of the first moment she knew she was totally in love with Raelle.
Relationships: Raelle Collar & Scylla Ramshorn, Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Series: letters from captivity [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1748980
Comments: 10
Kudos: 53





	I believe you.

_I believe you_.

_Your future is bleak._

_Gotta break a few eggs._

_Destruction means nothing to Alder._

_I love you._

_I love you._

Scylla’s head is swarmed with thoughts too fast and too loud for her to make much sense of any of it. Her whole body is tensed with emotion as she doubles over and pulls desperately against the restraints on her wrists. Quartermaine had just brought her Raelle, only to drag her away and then break into Scylla’s splintered mind. Now that the ordeal is over, she feels broken and deprived. She'd screamed when they pulled Raelle away. She’d screamed as Quartermaine reached into her thoughts. And she’d screamed again when she realized she’d betrayed the Spree.

She hasn’t actually stopped screaming. But screaming after having scarcely spoken in a week is wreaking havoc on her stressed vocal cords. The uncomfortable pressure of the collar on her neck was enough without the extra damage. Scylla’s voice, Scylla’s clear, powerful, persuasive voice, has been reduced to a hoarse sob. Betrayal, pain, fear, and anger course through her veins and light her broken body on fire. But that fire is beginning to die down as she is overtaken by a deep exhaustion.

Scylla lifts her head to take a quivering breath through her nose. As she sighs lets it escape as a sigh, tears fall from her eyes and her body clenches in on itself as though trying to fill the hole she feels in her core. Finally, though, she relaxes and begins to breathe normally again. Her head slumps forward once more, although this time it’s completely limp. She steadies herself over a few breaths, slowly letting the rest of her body relax.

She’s never felt so helpless. When Raelle had knelt before her, looking like a broken shell of the girl she'd grown to love, that had become glaringly obvious to her. She couldn’t reach out to hold her, couldn’t explain the parts of herself that Raelle didn’t know about yet. So, she did the only thing she could – tell the truth. The only truth that mattered.

_I love you._

The vision of Raelle’s face, tear-streaked and clenched with pain as she croaked out those three words, sent another ache through Scylla’s chest. When the guards left Raelle’s disheveled body in a heap on the floor, Scylla’s heart had fallen to her stomach. Before that moment, she hadn’t seriously considered that Alder may suspect Raelle in connection to Scylla and the Spree. Scylla’s blood had boiled with fearful rage as the guards drug a screaming Raelle away.

Scylla is familiar with rage. For years, it has driven her. Driven her to answer the call when it finally came. Driven her to take classes from her enemy. Driven her to do the unspeakable.

She thinks back to when all of that rage started, to the events that led to her current predicament.

_A young Scylla stood in front of the nondescript house, unimpressed. “How many families did you say are living here again? This is tiny,” she scoffed._

_“Just three. There are more units around back, and some fruit trees. Come on honey, help us with the bags,” Scylla’s mother urged. Scylla rolled her eyes but complied._

_As it turns out, Scylla needn’t have worried. That house was occupied by the families. There wasn’t any room in there for Scylla and her parents. Instead, they would be sleeping in one of the storage units out back. Scylla surveys their new living space with a look of disgust, taking in the cobwebs and clutter. The whole thing was no more than 15 feet by 10 feet and lacked any kind of internal structure. This was why their family always travelled with cots. In places like these, they needed to make their own home._

_Scylla’s mother, nonplussed, began to flit around the room tidying what she could. Scylla’s father began to wordlessly assemble their portable cots for the three of them. Scylla herself began poking around, looking at the piles of forgotten junk that littered the decrepit garage. Ancient cans of paint, old cleaning supplies, rusty bikes. But, leaned against the corner, was something actually interesting. Scylla braved the cobwebs to reach onto the longboard and take hold. It was definitely aged, but it seemed to be in good shape. As Scylla held it up to inspect it, she saw her mother send her an exasperated glance. She could hear the words already -_ Put that down and help us! These are not your things.

_But just then, someone knocked at the door. They almost immediately swung the door open and stuck their head inside. It was Sal, her dad’s contact who'd offered the family the garage._

_“Hi there, folks!” His voice was relaxed and inviting. “I see you’re starting to settle in here. We apologize for the clutter – we haven’t properly used this shed in some time now. We’re glad that you’ll be putting it to use now, for however long you choose to stay with us.” Just then, he saw the board in Scylla’s hands. She made to put it back, but he smiled and shook his head. “It’s especially a shame that longboard hasn’t been put to use. Ever since our eldest accepted the call, it’s just been sitting here collecting dust.”_

_Scylla’s father straightened up, turning his full body towards Sal. “Thank you again for having us, Sal. You called at just the right time.”_

_“No problem, Zachary. As long as things are quiet, you folks can stay here for as long as you want. Well, I just wanted to say hi and to let you know that you can come to me with any questions you have. We’ll get you sorted out.” With a final look around the room and a cordial nod, Sal left. He’d been gone when his other son, a gangly teenager named Danny, showed Scylla’s family the community earlier. Rather than be completely surrounded by normal humans all the time, most witches tended to aggregate together in communities. These communities afforded them privacy, freedom, and babysitting that they couldn’t find elsewhere. This one was really small, tucked up in the fringes of the suburbs of Virginia. There were two full houses and two smaller units for storage. Scylla’s family would be staying in one of those storage units, apparently._

_A glance at her parents confirmed that they were headed into one of the discussions Scylla didn’t like to be around for. Her mother’s eyes were wide and she was speaking in deep tones that sounded like warnings even from where Scylla was sitting. Her father wasn’t backing down, though – he was right up in her face and dishing it right back. She slipped out the door of the garage, sure that they wouldn’t notice. She walked past the house and out onto the street, longboard in hand. The community’s space was actually quite nice – a huge, old oak tree with impressive boughs lent a kind of stillness to the pace. From the street, the community looked no different than the rest of the neighborhood. The whole street was lined with aging but impressive white houses ringed with large, old trees. The street’s pavement was worn, but not too worn to be able to ride easily. She put the longboard to the ground and began pushing without a care._

_Scylla explored the neighborhood for a while, familiarizing herself with the nearby streets. That was always one of the first things her mother made her do. That way, if she had to, she could evade her would-be captors and “live another day.” A part of her recoils at the thought. Doing this has become second-nature; she can scarcely walk into a room anymore without immediately coming up with an exit strategy. She hates it. She hates living with a constant feeling of danger. She should be able to just be a kid and not have to worry about the brutal death in military service that awaits her if she’s captured. Scylla’s pushes become stronger the more worked up she gets, and soon she’s picked up real speed as she cruises down a gentle slope. Her front wheels suddenly dragged over a stick of some kind, sending her flying forward. She managed to tuck her head and rolled twice before coming to rest in an athletic kneeling position. The near-miss had her body pulsing with adrenaline. She took several deep breaths to steady herself, noticing the belated burning in her elbows, knees, and forehead where she scraped against the pavement during the fall._

_“Holy shit, are you okay?” The unfamiliar voice broke her moment of concentration. It's accompanied by the sound of another skateboard coming to a stop near her head._

_“Just wonderful,” Scylla barked, bringing a hand to her forehead. When she pulled it away, it was red with blood. She blinked, looking up at the source of the voice. It was a boy, about her own age. He was giving her a quizzical look, leaned against his longboard. “What, are you just going to stare at me?” Scylla asked after a moment of silence. That seemed to jolt the boy, and he moved forward to offer Scylla a hand up._

_“Quite the wipeout. Say, I haven’t seen you before,” the boy said._

_“And I haven’t seen you either,” Scylla retorted. Her mother’s voice, warning her to never let people know that she was new to the area, rang in her head._

_The boy just chuckled and gave a dismissive shrug. “Fair enough. Anyways, I’ve seen you now. I’m Jack,” he offered, holding out his hand._

_Scylla quirked an eyebrow but shook his extended hand anyways. “Scylla.”_

_“Skate together?”_

_“Sure.”_

_Talking to Jack was a breath of fresh air. It had been months since Scylla’s family had been anywhere with witches her age, and her mother’s strict no-civilian policy left her isolated most of the time. Not to mention that even when there were witches about her age, it was rare that they actually understood her situation. If they didn’t understand, they tended to judge. And their judgements were rarely accurate. But with Jack, there was none of that. He was just a kid, looking for distraction amid the tedium. They parted ways at twilight. Skating home, she smiled to herself. She’d just made a new friend._

_When Scylla walked into her home of the month, she was immediately confronted by the whirlwind of her mother's accusatory concern._

_“Where the hell have you been! We’ve been looking all over for you!” Her mother stormed up to her, jabbing a finger into her chest. She looked frantically around the room for a rescue, but her dad was nowhere to be found. Typical._

_“I was skating around the neighborhood, getting to know the area,” Scylla replied lifelessly, swatting her mother’s hand away from her as she walked towards her cot._

_“Don’t you walk away from me! I’ve been worried sick!”_

_“You ever try valium? I hear it works wonders.” Scylla’s voice oozed contempt as she set her longboard under her cot. As soon as she said that, though, she realized she’d made a mistake. She’d underestimated her mother’s anger before, but it was rearing its head now. The room felt like all the air had suddenly been sucked out and replaced with the raw, vibrating power of her mother's anger. Scylla whipped around to look at her, who stood with hands out and her eyes wide. Scylla gulped._

_“I have given my whole life to protect you!” Her mother’s voice rings with the strength of several seeds. _

_“Mom, stop! You’re going to bring the building down!” Scylla pleads. This has happened before; when her mother is angry enough, she can inadvertently summon a decay that eats away at the structure of the building. Several times, it had gotten her out of a pinch with the army. But right now, it was just dangerous. Her mother seemed to respond, blinking and shaking her head. The air’s dangerous energy seemed to dissipate, and air came flooding back into the room. With the danger gone, Scylla’s own rage flared up._

_“And protect me from what, anyways?! From connection? From belonging? From purpose?” Scylla recited her now-familiar complaints with her mother’s methods. “With you, I am nothing. I am a shadow.” She stood up straighter, lifting her eyes to meet those of her mother. “You say you hate the army, and yet you do nothing to stop them.” She took a step forward, feeling her anger grow with each second that passed. “You just scurry away and hide, like a damned rodent!”_

_“Violence is not our way, Scylla,” her mother cautioned. “All we want is for you to be able to live your life.”_

_“Well guess what, Ma! This isn’t a life! This is shame, and fear, and loneliness, but it is not a life!” Scylla was eye-to-eye with her mother now._

_“If they find you, they’ll kill you,” her mother whispered. “This is the life we can have.” Her mother sounded pitiful now._

_“No. It’s what you can have.” With that said, Scylla turned on her heel, grabbed her longboard, and slammed the door behind herself as she stormed out. A bitter taste hung in the back of her mouth. Things hadn’t always been this way with her mother. There had been a time, a long time, that her mother had been her best friend. She’d learned necro magic from her mother, travelled the country with her, and learned about their family history. But in the last several years, the stress of living on the run had taken a toll on her parents. Their whole family seemed to live their life on the edge of a fight that could literally bring the roof down. This past year in particular, they had nearly been caught. The near-miss was owed, according to her mother, to Scylla’s recklessness. Ever since, she’s watched Scylla’s every move like a hawk. It was suffocating and infuriating._

_As she rode along the nearly-dark streets around the neighborhood, Scylla thought. She understood her parents’ grievances with the military. Every year, they lined up the next batch of young witches to throw into humanity’s ceaseless, violent wars. Witches had no choice in whether they served, and even less choice in who they served. Alder, the head of the whole operation, had spent centuries solidifying her power. It was on Alder’s word that the army had killed Scylla’s grandpa, her mother’s father. It was Alder’s fault that Scylla’s grandmother had taken her own life rather than live a life of violent servitude. It was Alder’s fault that her mother had grown into the hard, paranoid, controlling woman she was. Scylla was going fast when another twig sent her flying again. This time, though, she didn’t get up. She lay there, letting the sting of her fall wash over her. At least when she hurt herself on the longboard, she had some control over how it hurt her._

_Life as a dodger was more about dodging than living. It was pointless and disempowering. What would it take for her to be able to live a normal life? To be able to do as she pleased without fear? With a pang, she realized that it would take totally restructuring human-witch relations. And there was no guarantee that witches would end up any safer for it. Her mother was right – it was a non-option. But that didn’t mean that fighting was meaningless. As Scylla lay there with her head against the pavement, she realized something big. If life wasn’t an option, fine. But running couldn’t be her only option. She would much rather fight than run. At least as a fighter, she could do some damage._

Back in her chair, Scylla’s eyes burn. That was the day Scylla had known she had no alternative but to fight. She'd been just 15 at the time. It’s a comforting memory, in a way. It was a memory that confirmed to her that she’d made the right choice, that she wasn’t only driven by vengeance for her parents. That she did have a purpose.

The anger Scylla felt that day had simmered for years. It had become who she was, and it didn’t loosen its grip until it was replaced by a different kind of rage that had totally consumed her life. _That_ memory threatens to surface, but she pushes it down before it can rear its ugly head.

There’s something nice about anger, Scylla decides. The way that it can completely fill her mind, guide her choices, and make her feel certain was unparalleled. Or at least, it had been. When she met Raelle, it began to simmer down. New feelings, feelings Scylla had never felt before, began jostling for position within her mind and heart. That moment at the wedding when the clock struck 6, they won once and for all. Without her rage, things are so much harder to understand. Just about the only thing Scylla feels certain of now is that she loves Raelle.

 _Whoever you are, whoever, you were, I’m with you_.

_I believe you._

_I love you._

Scylla’s chest fills with longing again at the thought of the girl who’d changed her life. Never before had she ever felt so close to someone. Without Scylla even explaining, Raelle seemed to understand what she was feeling. The way Raelle empathized with and supported Scylla had melted her defenses faster than she ever could have guessed. She recalls the day she knew conclusively that she loved Raelle. It was after Beltane, in the week or so before Abigail’s cousin’s wedding. A moment stolen in between their intensive training regimens.

_"Come on," Raelle gestured animatedly. Scylla shot her a coy smile, picking up the pace to trail closer behind the blonde healer. Raelle looked positively wondrous in the forest's dappled light. Her hair, always so bright, gave off a warm glow in the sun. More than that, though, she had a sort of effusive energy about her right now that seemed to make Scylla's hair stand on end. Although the sensation had been off-putting at first, it had come to feel exhilarating._

_"Where are you leading me?" Scylla asked, reaching out to link her fingers with Raelle's._

_“I want to show you something beautiful,” Raelle replied coyly, bringing Scylla’s hands to her lips for a light kiss. “But you gotta move, because I don’t have much time!” Raelle took off, nearly bounding through the forest. “Up this way! It’s just on the other side of that clearing.”_

_Raelle dropped Scylla’s hand to run ahead and scan through the underbrush._

_“Ha!” Scylla laughed softly and followed the sound of Raelle’s triumphant interjection. There she found Raelle, standing excitedly over… a stump._

_“What exactly am I looking at?”_

_“Something that’s not dead yet,” Raelle replied with a twinkle in her eye. “This is an American Chestnut. We have these back in the Cession too, but these days they’re really hard to find. Look, right here,” Raelle crouched down to run her fingers along several young twigs coming up from the edge of the stump. “This is new growth. The tree is struggling, but it’s trying.” At this, Raelle took a deep breath and kneeled down next to the sprouts. That energy around her seemed to quiet for a moment as she stilled herself. Hardly moving her mouth, Raelle began a rhythmic multi-seed hum. As Scylla watched, the sprouts pulsed upwards and combined to form a rapidly growing trunk. Raelle’s brows knit together with effort and she put out a hand to steady herself as she continued. After a rushed deep breath, she continued. Her song changed ever so slightly, and the tree began to grow buds that quickly extended into catkins covered in flowers. Raelle paused again to look at Scylla. Her eyes were wide, her face bright with an earnest smile._

_“They teach you to do that in basic?”_

_Raelle laughed sadly, standing up to look at the now waist-height miniature tree in front of her. She ran a hand along one of the branches, looking closely at the flowering ends. “Mama taught me how.”_

_Scylla tilted her head, her eyebrows knitting together as she felt Raelle’s suffering. She wanted to say something, but no words came. Instead, she just watched as Raelle hummed another rhythmic song. Before long, she turned back towards Scylla with a strange, fuzzy-looking green ball cupped in her hands._

_“I know this doesn’t look like much right now, but they are delicious when they’re roasted. Back home, my mom and I had a whole forest of chestnut trees that she had nursed back to health over the years.” Raelle kept her gaze solemnly on the strange fruit in her palms as she talked, but finally glanced up at Scylla’s eyes. Scylla moved closer, holding Raelle’s arms for a gentle, reassuring touch. The corner of Raelle’s mouth quirked up, and she closed her eyes to shake her head lightly._

_“They say these trees used to be all over the east coast forests. They say they were huge, that they dropped bucket upon bucket of nuts every summer, that they made the best wood around. Then a fungus from the old world came and killed almost all of them. That fungus, they called it the blight, kills the top of the tree. But some of them, like this one, are still alive beneath the surface. Still rooted.” Raelle gestured at the stump behind her. “They say that they’re dead, but they’re still alive. And they can still do amazing things, like make chestnuts.” She put the fruit in Scylla’s hand then._

_“I guess what I’m trying to say is that life is not as simple as a lot of people think. Sometimes there are things that are holding you down, but with a little bit of support, life can triumph anyways.” Raelle put her hands on either side of Scylla’s head. “Pretty nuts, huh?”_

_Scylla can’t help the soft laugh that escapes at Raelle’s stupid little joke. As it always did when they had these intimate moments, the air drifting around them became filled with points of glowing light. Unable to contain herself any longer, Scylla met Raelle’s lips with her own in a deep, tender kiss. She brought her hands to either side of Raelle’s head and enjoyed the sensation of Raelle’s hands falling to her hips. Scylla doesn’t think she’s ever felt so seen, or so whole._

_Without knowing everything, Raelle seemed to know just enough about what Scylla was feeling. The pressure she felt from all sides – from the Spree, Porter, the army, her past. It was suffocating. But here Raelle was, offering up her goodness to Scylla. Offering up a treasured memory of her mother, offering her support for whatever Scylla was going through. Raelle’s hands rise to Scylla’s waist, pulling her towards her at the small of her back. She melts into the touch._

_“You were right. That was beautiful,” Scylla murmured in awe._

_A bell tolled in the distance, breaking them from the moment._

_“Oh shit, I’ve gotta go,” Raelle exclaimed with a dazed smile. “Alright, I’ll see you tonight? I’ve got something for you.”_

_“Another gift? I can hardly wait,” Scylla murmured. Raelle smiled and brought her hand up to Scylla’s chin to pull her in for one more quick peck. Then, it was back to that cocky smile of hers._

_“I’ll see you tonight.” With one last grin, Raelle took off running to get back to training with her unit._

__

__

_After a final glance at the now-flowery tree Raelle had shown her, Scylla walked after her._

Scylla had never thought that people like Raelle existed. People so full of light that not even despair or rage could put it out. As she’d realized her feelings for Raelle, she’d grown anxious that Raelle’s light might reject Scylla’s darkness. But that moment with the chestnut tree had dispelled that anxiety and cemented Raelle’s place in Scylla’s heart.

 _I believe you_.

_I love you._

There is hope for Scylla yet. Raelle loves her. When Scylla closes her eyes to try to relax again, she sees Raelle’s face, as clear as a summer day. She’d rather focus on that than her rage, anyways.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this! Kudos and comments are very much appreciated :)  
> You can find me on Tumblr @cyanidecity


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